


Tumblr Prompts

by EnsignCelery



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crossdressing, Light Bondage, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-28
Updated: 2013-03-07
Packaged: 2017-11-19 18:01:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/576100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnsignCelery/pseuds/EnsignCelery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Works inspired by Tumblr user Ohcomelyinsomesortoftimemachine. She posts prompts that inspire me to write! ♥ Currently includes: Sam in a plaid skirt and Sam in tight leather pants, and professors Sam Winchester and Castiel Novak.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Plaid

Castiel had, of course, heard Dean Winchester tease his younger brother about being emotional. He called Sam a girl so often, came up with various feminine names for the man, and Castiel had eventually started tuning it out.

He decided it was just how these brothers expressed affection.

He was not expecting to open the bathroom door to find Sam in the position that he was.

Castiel was still unused to being a slave to his own body. He did not realize that he had to eat until his stomach was outright making noises at him; he did not realize that he needed to use the restroom until he was actually squirming with it, usually resulting in one of the Winchesters shoving him towards the door; and, as Dean had pointed out a number of times, he was unaware of being aroused by anything until his body started to ache with it.

But Castiel was very, _very_ aware of his arousal right now.

Samuel Winchester was leaning in close to the tiny bathroom mirror, a clawed hair clip holding his hair away from his face, applying lip gloss to his already slightly made-up face. His eyes were dusted with brown, his lashes slightly longer with what Castiel assumed were product, and his pronounced cheekbones were dusted with color to emphasize their shape.

But that was only the start of it.

Sam’s knee, braced against the countertop to hold his balance, was covered in a soft looking black legging that dipped down into fur-lined calf-high black boots. Resting just above his knees was the hem of a pleated red-and-black plaid skirt, held in place at his slim waist with a thin brown belt. Over his hips hung a soft gray sweater – cardigan, Castiel remembered, from one of the conversations where Dean had teased Sam for his feminine traits – that was draped over a red turtleneck sweater that tucked neatly into the skirt, hanging a bit over Sam’s pectoral muscles. And around Sam’s neck sat a thin black choker and a long golden chain, a small bronze pocket watch dangling at the end.

Castiel was taken aback by how _beautiful_ Sam Winchester was in this clothing.

And, from the look on Sam’s face as he turned to greet Castiel where he stood frozen in the doorway, Sam was just as surprised at how attracted Castiel was to him in his current outfit. 

Lucky for the both of them, Castiel had not quite gotten a handle on embarrassment, so, moments after Sam pointed out Castiel’s – admittedly, very obvious – erection, Castiel made the quick decision to follow some advice that Dean had once given him through low laughter in the dimness of a bar: If you get turned on, and you think you’ve got a chance, just fucking _go for it_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This](http://i47.tinypic.com/2m51dw9.png) is the picture I used as reference. ♥
> 
> ... I need to write more porn. This could have EASILY turned into porn. Dammit.


	2. Hip Bones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "sam in leather pants though and him teasing cas by leaning over a lot so his shirt pulls up and Cas can see his hip bones"

The gay goth club had been a bust.

 

Not only had Sam been forced to wear a pretty fucking uncomfortable pair of tight leather pants that _laced up the sides_ (“Come on, Sammy! We have to get in the spirit of things!”), but he had also been forced to grind up against his brother multiple times during the night. Something about bisexual women thinking it’s hot.

 

On top of all that, it turned out that there was no supernatural creature. It was just some ex-bouncer that decided it would be fun to chop up a few of the clientele so that people would stop coming to the club. Clearly the guy had underestimated how much weird these people were happy to put up with.

 

They had just ended up hog tying the guy in a bathroom and telling the owners to call the police before Dean had taken off with his thankfully acceptably-aged Hot Bisexual Woman and left Sam to walk – fucking _walk_ – back to the motel. Well, Sam had taken a cab, so the flirting he’d had to endure on the way home was at a pleasant minimum, but it still annoyed him.

 

It had annoyed him right up until he opened the door to the motel room only to hear a crash as a beer bottle hit the floor.

 

A smirk crossed Sam’s face as he watched Castiel, former angel and current travel companion of the brothers Winchester, hurriedly crouch down to clean up the shards of glass before he thought better of it and simply waved his hand to will them away.  If Castiel was surprised enough by Sam’s appearance when he was just standing there to forget about his angel mojo for a few moments, what would happen if he did something… else?

 

\---

 

It had been an hour and, still, Sam had not changed into more comfortable clothing.

 

Yes, Castiel knew that Sam was uncomfortable in those… pants. Sam had complained loud and long while he and Dean had prepared for the outing. Of course, Sam tended to complain to his brother often, so Castiel had ignored them both in favor of the research he had been doing on the laptop at the time (Wikipedia surfing was research, even if both Winchesters laughed at him for suggesting that it was). He regretted ignoring them, now.

 

Sam was currently sprawled across his bed on his stomach, legs sprawled outward in a provocative manner and arms folded underneath him so that he could prop himself up on his elbows to converse with Castiel where he sat on the edge of Dean’s bed (closest to the television, of course) pretending to half focus on the program. Sam’s position, as well as causing the leather straps crisscrossing down his legs to pull taught against defined muscles, forced the simple black t-shirt the man was wearing to ride up in the front, exposing the area where wide hip bones peaked over the material, rubbed a soft pink color by the shifting of unyielding leather across them all night.

 

Castiel was barely keeping up with the quiet conversation.

 

“…Did you know that you’re staring?”

 

Castiel’s head shot up.

 

“Staring at what, Sam?” he asked, attempting to play innocent. It worked often enough on Dean but Sam? Sam was used to it by now.

 

“Don’t try to bullshit me, Cas,” was the response, smirk heavy on those distracting lips. “You stopped paying attention to what we were talking about ages ago, man, and you’ve been staring at my ass ever since.”

 

“Your hipbones, actually,” Castiel corrected, giving up on innocence.

 

“My hipbones? Really?” There were teeth being added to that smirk now, making him look absolutely feral. “What about them, Cas? What’s got you so interested in them? What are you imagining in that head of yours?”

 

Castiel thought for a second. 

 

Sam had been teasing him all night. Flashes of skin, uncomfortable but provocative positioning of his limbs, constantly stretching in different directions to show off as much of his muscled body as possible. Clearly, the man deserved a little payback.

 

Castiel slid effortlessly off of the edge of the bed and padded over to kneel next to Sam’s before leaning over and growling hotly into the man’s ear, “I have been thinking about the color of your skin, Sam, and how red it will be once I am finished biting every inch of your hipbones and the skin around them. I have been thinking about those pants and how I would pull them off slowly, irritating the rest of your skin into turning that wondrous pink shade that your hips currently are, and then worshipping that skin inch by inch until you are begging me to stop. I have been thinking about pulling those pants off and holding onto your ankles, pinning them down and spreading them so that you have no control as I spend as much time as I want torturing your cock, making you beg for it. I know that you will grab at my hair, try to force me to go faster with your actions instead of words, Sam, but it won’t work tonight. I want to hear you _scream_ for me.”

 

“Well, _fuck_ , Cas,” came the wheezing reply. “I guess you’ll just have to do that, won’t you?”

 

“Oh, I shall.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >:3


	3. Tie Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I need a fic where Sam and Cas are professors and Sam wears glasses and Cas never straightens his tie properly until Sam does it for him and it’s so damn obvious that they are in love
> 
> and there would be sex on Sam’s desk..."

“Jeez, Cas, how do you deal with these tiny offices?”

 

Hard blue eyes glared up at him through tousled black bangs.

 

“Apologies, Sam,” came the low reply as Castiel returned his focus to the computer screen a few inches from his face. “Not all of us teach Law and Ethics classes and are lucky enough to obtain offices on the ground floor of their buildings.”

 

Sam snorted, grabbing the back of the other man’s computer chair to drag him away from the screen.

 

“I’m not saying it’s your fault, Cas,” he said, reaching forward to adjust the man’s tie (it was backwards again; Sam might have to re-tie it later) and pull the right side of the collar down where the tan fabric of his trenchcoat had, somehow, managed to half stand up. “I’m just saying it sucks. Why don’t you come hang out in my office, more? I’ve got more than enough desk space for the both of us.”

 

“I need to be here for my students,” Castiel snipped, swatting at the large hands now attempting to straighten his hair. “And, besides, we both know what happens when we spend time in your office.”

 

\---

 

Castiel thought he had shown great restraint today. Really, how in the world did so many introverted, socially awkward people become interested in Broadcast and Journalism, anyway? The number of students who had approached him today with the excuse that they were simply too shy to take photographs of total strangers was frustrating beyond belief.

 

He had, though, shown great restraint in not screaming at, cursing, or slapping any of his students. And he thought he deserved a reward. So, he packed his small leather suitcase and made his way across the sky bridge to the east side of campus, and University Hall, to take Sam up on his offer to… _use_ the man’s desk.

 

As Castiel entered the building, though, he had to repress the urge to growl at the sight before him.

 

In the general office, Sam stood next to the building secretary’s desk talking to said blonde harlot, her hand resting on his upper arm and a wide, flirtatious smile spread across her conniving little face.

 

Okay, maybe Cas was making a big deal out of nothing. Surely, Sam would not be flirting with a woman that he worked with (never mind that he and Castiel, technically, worked together). That would be unprofessional and… THAT LITTLE SLUT HAD JUST STARTED RUBBING SAM’S COLLAR BONE.

 

Castiel forced the glass door open so hard that he heard the hinges protest and grabbed Sam’s arm with a fierce, tight grip.

 

“Oh, hey, Casti-OW! Jesus! What the fuck, dude?”

 

Cas ignored him in favor of glaring heatedly at the woman in front of him.

 

“Professor Winchester and I have important information to discuss, Miss Masters,” he said on a growl. “Please, excuse us.”

 

And, with that, he dragged a sputtering Sam Winchester out of the office, down the hall, and through the wooden door proclaiming S. Winchester, slamming the door shut behind them and slamming the man in his grasp against the door.

 

“Hello, Sam.” Blue eyes staring deeply, darkly into hazel, eyelashes close enough to be brushing. “How was your _chat_ with Miss Masters?”

 

Sam gaped, twitching his arm experimentally in the grip that Castiel, whose strength always surprised him, still had on his upper arm. He would probably have a bruise later tonight. A bruise that would tell everyone exactly who Sam belonged to.

 

He smiled slowly.

 

“Jealous, Cas?”

 

“I am merely curious as to why someone who I am involved in a deep and meaningful relationship with would allow that smarmy, blonde _whore_ to lay her hands on him.”

 

“Jeez, Cas, tell me how you really feel about Meg.”

 

“ _Samuel._ ”

 

“ _Cas_ ,” he countered softly. “Cas, I wasn’t flirting back. You know I wouldn’t. I was actually trying to get away so I could come visit you. You know I don’t have any interest in anyone else.”

 

Castiel’s eyes softened, the laugh lines around his face standing out once more. He slowly loosened his grip on Sam’s arm, taking a step back. “I know,” he sighed. “I just don’t like that woman.”

 

“I know you don’t,” Sam mumbled, reaching a hand up to pet softly at Cas’ cheek before he leaned in to leave a soft, chaste kiss across the man’s chapped lips. “So, what did you come all the way over here for, hmm? Was it just an excuse to take some anger out on Meg?”

 

“Actually…”

 

Castiel leaned away once more to take in Sam’s current state of dress.

 

The soft fabric of the man’s gray cardigan had felt wonderful against Castiel’s fingers, but now he just wanted to watch it slide down the man’s arms. He wanted to rip that ridiculous plaid tie off (who even _made_ plaid ties?), strip off that crisp white button down, tear off the man’s black slacks and spread him out across that big wooden desk so that he could worship him and mark him up and remind him who owned him, who brought him pleasure, who was the only man that would ever touch him again.

 

Or…

 

“I was coming to tell you that your tie is absolutely ridiculous,” Castiel said simply, calmly,  “and that you should remove it immediately and put it to better use.”

“Oh?”

 

“Yes. I can think of many things that a tie like that would be good for.”

 

Large, gentle fingers came up to massage the gaudy tie before slowly untying it to slip it from around his neck.

 

“I can think of a few things, myself.”

 

\---

 

Chestnut hair bathed the back of the dark leather office chair as Sam threw his head back, his teeth gritted against the shout that he wanted to let loose, a garbled groan slipping through his clenched teeth instead. His hand had unconsciously tangled tight in black hair, twisting sharply as the man in front of him again swallowed around the head of his cock, followed by a muffled gagging noise.

 

Sam forced himself to breathe again, slowly untangling his fingers to run them, shaking, along the blue fabric resting over Castiel’s eyes. He let out a hiss when the action caused Castiel’s head to jerk towards his hand, the man’s clever tongue swiping upwards to drag along the underside, forcing tingles down Sam’s spine.  He ran his fingers backwards, trailing the tips of them over the curve of Castiel’s ear, earning him a soft moan and causing the man’s arms to twitch in his restraints, the garish red and black tie tightening around his wrists.

 

“Close, Cas,” he rasped out, gritting his teeth again when his words caused the man kneeling before him to bob his head, taking his cock further into that beautiful mouth.

 

Cas choked again, but ignored it, focusing instead on sucking as hard as he could while trying to swallow as much of the man’s cock as possible. He wanted to bring Sam as much pleasure as the man had brought him not too long ago, spreading him naked across that big, beautiful desk, and blindfolding him with his own tie so that the taller man could worship every inch of skin laid out before him and have every sensation multiplied into oblivion. Castiel had jerked into every bite, arched into every swipe of tongue and caress of warm, calloused fingers, before he had arched and groaned out his release into the sudden and firm stroke of Sam’s palm.

 

Cas shuddered through the pleasure that was still sitting warm in his belly, pulling back a bit to lap at the tip of the man’s cock while still sucking as hard as he could.

 

Sam groaned long and, admittedly, a little loud for where they were at the moment, but Castiel didn’t care. He was instead focused on the bitter, somewhat unpleasant taste of the man’s ejaculate coating his tongue. He swallowed quickly, pulling off a moment later to lick at the bits of semen that had escaped the corners of his mouth, reminding Sam of a very dirty cat.

 

He let out a shuddering sigh at the picture that Castiel made, on his knees in front of him in nothing but a pair of (probably ruined) ties, his hair a sex-ruffled mess, his lips swollen dark and his body flushed and sweating from effort and lust. He gripped the back of the man’s neck and pulled upwards, dragging Castiel into his lap so that he could kiss him deeply, lovingly.

 

And then he pulled back with a cough.

 

“Oh, god, that is absolutely disgusting!”

 

Castiel smirked, the smug look on his face only slightly muted by the stripe of blue fabric concealing his features. “I have told you, Sam, that eating fruit is better for our sex life than eating salads and red meat.”

 

Even through the blindfold, Castiel could tell that Sam was making a rude face at him. 


	4. Sick Cas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short drabble about Cas getting sick for the first time.

Castiel could not stop shivering, which was odd since his skin felt like it was on fire. His stomach was twisted in knots, his throat burned, and his eyes were itchy and swollen as if he had been crying when, in reality, the only part of him that had been leaking fluids lately was his nose.

Cas, apparently, had the "common cold." And he was absolutely miserable.

"I don't understand," He ground out, wincing at the rough scrape of his voice against his aching vocal chords. "I have been blown up, stabbed, shot, bitten, and many other things. Why does this seem so much worse than all of those?"

Sam gave him a small, sad smile as he pulled another blanket up to the shivering man's neck.

"Being sick sucks because it just happens sometimes," Sam said softly, brushing some of Castiel's sweat-soaked hair from his forehead. "It happens even though we don't do anything to cause it and then we can't do anything but take medicine and wait it out."

"I don't like the medicine," Cas pouted.

Sam, surprisingly, managed not to burst out laughing at the image of a former Angel of the Lord pouting and, instead, managed to speak with only a slight strain to his voice, his words sounding concerned instead of amused at his lover's childishness: "I know, baby."

"I do not like being human."

"I know, baby."

"... I know you are laughing at me, Sam Winchester."

"You should stop talking, baby. You're making your throat hurt worse."

"I hate you."

"I love you, too, baby."


End file.
